a sun 
found blue lipped in the thrush 
lips ovaline in rapture 
with a mile of drag marks and 
waxen splinters; 
a crash of self-discovery to be sure.
neck craned up and out
tward unseen nothing 
idle mouth agape, stuck on the shape 
a garotte of a word: 
higher. 

beautiful. 
but left behind by the glassian spark 
of its clean soul.
just another broken bird
to be taken by that gr...

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